


Trouble

by CinnaAtHeart



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: College AU, Darcy is unimpressed, F/M, Sam should have paid more attention in PoliSci
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7411897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnaAtHeart/pseuds/CinnaAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam both hates and loves his Political Science unit. </p>
<p>Hates, because it’s boring as shit and he’s only doing it for the credits. </p>
<p>Loves, because the professor is <em>hot</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timetravelingvampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetravelingvampire/gifts).



> for the wonderfully talented Timetravelingvampire, who won runner-up in my fic giveaway; congrats sugar! This has substantially less fluff in it than I'd intended, but hopefully it's still enough :S

Sam both hates and loves his Political Science unit.

Hates, because it’s boring as shit and he’s only doing it for the credits.

Loves, because the professor is _hot_. Like, burn the world to the ground and sashay through the ashes Hot. Like, about to cause a global warming catastrophe Hot. Like- well. Sam could wax poetical about Professor Lewis all goddamn. Really he could, but his friends are frankly sick of it and the last time he talked to his ma about having a crush on a girl he was twelve and his ma damn near planned a wedding.

The long and short of it is that Professor Lewis is _smoking_ hot but Sam is hard-pressed finding the fucks to actually do the work, despite hanging onto her _Every. Word._ in lectures. The fruits of this odd dilemma inevitably prove themselves in his work, which is shoddy at best and disastrously incompetent at worst and a direct result of spending a total of three hours on his mid-term paper (not that he cares, really. He’s always done better in tests). Still, it comes as something as a surprise when Professor Lewis asks him to stay behind after the lecture the week after he handed in the paper.

He hovers awkwardly down the front, ignoring the curious looks from his classmates (most of whom seem like _children_ to him because _damn_ but does college make Sam feel old) as they leave. Professor Lewis glances at him only once as she packs her things away, giving off the appearance of doing something when really all she’s done is unplugged her laptop and stuck the remainder of their assignments into a plastic sleeve.

It’s not until the last of the students leave that she looks up, setting her laptop down with a definitive _thud_. Sam swallows nervously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Lewis?”

“I did,” she says calmly, as though not acutely aware of the pair of them being the only ones left in the lecture hall. “I wanted to know; what gives Wilson?”

Sam gapes at her, taken aback. “Uh- what?”

She glares at him crossly. “What fucking gives? Your paper was- frankly- appalling. One of the worst I’ve seen in a while, to be honest. Did you even do _any_ of the readings?”

Sam swallows back the lump in his throat. He knew he’d done a shit job, sure, but not enough to merit this kind of reaction. “I… maybe?”

She raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms in front of her and _damn it all_ but she should not look as good as that when reprimanding him. “See, I know you’re lying, because if you had, you’d know the entire assessment piece could have been answered with them. I mean, this is a _capstone course_ for God’s sake. It’s not fucking rocket science. Goddamn, it’s barely even political science!”

“Uh… sorry?”

Her eyes narrow and she advances on him. Up close, Sam is blessed with the knowledge that she wears some kind of fruity perfume that reminds him of summer. “Now see, I looked at your records, Wilson, _and_ I spoke with Professor Rogers.”

He glances to the side. He hasn’t felt this small since Basic. “You did?”

“Mhmm,” Lewis all but growls. “And guess what I found?”

“Uh-”

“I saw a student with a GPA of 3.5 and a flawless attendance record- or at least, flawless for a **sophomore**. Rogers gave you a _glowing_ recommendation; insisted you were one of his best students, in fact. So _imagine_ my disappointment at your _laughable_ attempt at the assessment.”

“I’m… sorry?”

The hard lines of her face ease away and Sam’s panic seems to intensify rather than diminish. “But I tell you what; I’ll give you a chance Wilson, to get back in my good books.”

 Sam nods rapidly, pulse thrumming in his ears. “Anything.”

Lewis smirks at that, eyes glittering with a familiar mischief. His housemate Natasha gets the same look in her eye when she’s about to torment her boyfriend. “First off, because I like you and you at least seem to pay attention- which is honestly gratifying in a class full of goldfish- I’ll give you one week to hand in a new paper. One that will at _least_ give you a pass mark.” Sam blanches at the thought of more work but nods, putting on his Big Boy Pants. “Secondly- and this is the most important stipulation; you ask me out for a drink.”

Sam damn near chokes on air. That is _not_ what he expected her to say. “I- _what?_ ”

Lewis carries on, unaffected by his shock. “Of course, I don’t date my students, so you’ll have to wait until the semester is finished to ask me.” She turns around, picking up her laptop and perching it on her hip. Sam is still staring at her in astonishment when she looks at him again. She laughs, light hearted and completely inconsiderate of Sam’s confusion. “Sam it’s simple,” she purrs as she hitches the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “You’re hot- I’m hot- and I think it’d be great if we could be hot together. But _only_ when you pass my unit. Are we clear? Do we have a deal?”

Sam feels like this should probably be extremely inappropriate, but he’s still stuck on the fact that Lewis wants to go out with him at all. He nods dumbly and his professor positively _beams_ at him.

“Fantastic,” she grins, and quick as a snake, leans forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Cheerio, Wilson,” she says blithely, and walks up the stairs. “Give my regards to _Professor_ Rogers, would you?”

The door closes quietly behind her and Sam blinks, completely bemused.

“What the hell just happened?” he asks the lecture theatre.

There’s no reply.

Typical.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come and chat with me on [tumblr](http://cinnaatheart.tumblr.com/) :D


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